The air is dense and chalky.
The sky scattered and broken.
The feeling of complete separation is cutting in.
Your words like glue bond us together.
Let them try to cut us apart.
I cling to the clouds where the world seems much less complicated.
looking down
What do you make of things?
Portions of puzzles lay scattered.
Hears and legs bending to help in mending.
Up here everything is clearer.
Why can't everyone find faith and love?
_______________________________________________
October 2001
There were so many things I wanted to say to him.
As he spoke I could feel his words grabbing and shaking my brain.
But there is only one way into someones soul.
How do you get to know someone so completely.
To predict movement and thoughts.
How long it has been since I have felt figured out.
How well do we know ourselves?
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